Halloween. It's a special time of year. Ghosts, goblins, witches, and the occasional Dracula or two. It's always festive, but this Halloween was going to be different.
The drudgery of work was slightly dissipated by the fact that the boss had consented to allow people to dress in costume this year.
You decided to go all out and dress as a Genie, or in this case a “Jeannie,” complete with the little Genie hat and veil, the obligatory tube top, the barely waist high puffy pants, and slippers, with toes curling skyward before bending back toward your foot.
As you get dressed, you take a moment to look at yourself in the mirror. "Pretty damn good, if I say so myself.” Satisfied with your Halloween look, you start off to work. The graveyard shift, appropriately enough.
As you walk out the door, you see something move out of the corner of your eye. You turn and look, but nothing’s there. Your skin tingles with excitement, sending a rush of goose bumps down your body. It's as if you've been touched by something cold; your hands reach up to your neck as your body shivers.
Shaking off the sensations, you walk out to your car and begin the long drive to work. The radio plays "Monster Mash" just to set the mood for the evening. It's an oldie, but a…”Well, it's an oldie,” you think.
As you drive, you can’t seem to shake that feeling - as if you’re being watched - but there isn’t another car around you. Your hand reaches up to your neck again, rubbing it, caressing it, in an unconscious attempt to brush away the prickling sensations.
The drive is the same - right on Main Street, another right on Allegan and then left on the highway – but something's different. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but there's something for sure.
It's unseasonably warm, and there's a fog dropping from the sky, the headlights on your car making shadows as you drive.
"That’s it," you think, deciding what the difference of this evening is. "Fog. In October - on Halloween. Spooky."
The music plays on with more songs themed for the evening. With the exception of the occasional glance in your rearview mirror, the drive is uneventful, until...
As you pull into the office parking lot, you notice the usual collection of cars. You open your door, only to be greeted by Dracula himself. He's tall, dressed in a black cape, his arm lifted to hide his face. Only his eyes are visible. He reaches to open your door, and says, "Good evening," in his best Transylvanian accent.
"Thanks, Bob," is all you say as you push the car door open with your foot.
"How'd you know it was me?" he asks.
"Maybe it's your bad accent!" you reply.
"Are you ready for tonight? It's probably gonna be pretty quiet, aside from the usual spooks that are around," he says.
"But no one’s as spooky as you, Bob," you laugh.
With that, you take the offered arm and walk into the building for the evening’s “work.” The nightshift is usually boring, but, on occasion, you DO have an exciting call come in, and this night had already started out different.
"Who knows!" you think silently, wishing you had a day job.
The office manager gets a call from home and decides that he must leave. So far it's been a quiet night and he tells everyone that it would be okay if they partied a little bit.
